


Trust To Keep Us Both Alive

by Emono



Series: Western Bodice-Ripper's [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Bodice-Ripper, Body Worship, Breeding, Clothes Ripping, Cock Slapping, Dirty Talk, Dominance, Explicit Sexual Content, Happy Ending, Kinda, Light Angst, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Porn with Feelings, Prisoner!Adam, Prostitution, Protectiveness, Rope Bondage, Roughness, Shameless Smut, Sheriff!Joel, Size Difference, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 12:19:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2692730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emono/pseuds/Emono
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr. Adam Ellis was a wanderer, and he often drank more than he should. This nasty habit landed him smack dab in the middle of Sheriff Heyman's jailhouse. The town founder wants Ellis's head on a spike, but Joel wants his ass. What should've been a rough fuck in a cell block turned into more than either man could've thought. Will Joel let Adam hang for his crimes, or will his heart prevail?</p><p>Can either of them escape the suffocating town of Cockbite alive?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust To Keep Us Both Alive

**I want to thank MXD for the suggestions that I used word-for-word and for Choboozle for writing her Western fic and inspiring me.**

* * *

 

Adam huffed and strained against his shackles like the steer they’d called him back in the bar. The metal cut a sharp line at the top of his wrists and went mid-forearm to lock his arms behind his back. All the frothy, golden beer he’d downed earlier still had him drunk but he wasn’t near numb enough to ward off the ache of being bound. He had been put on his knees in the middle of a jail cell and he hadn’t moved, too disorientated to do much else but blink and try to get his bearings. There were bars in front of him but brick walls on every other side to create a chilly, insulated pocket. The window across from him had sunlight streaming through and it was obnoxiously hitting his face.

 

He shouldn’t have been drinking so early in the morning but he didn’t know what else to do with his miserable existence. His father had kicked him out of the house and he’d lost his ranch-hand job. He’d been on the search for a new home but nothing had quite fit yet. The young deputy, Marquis, had brought him in who knows how long ago. From what he’d seen past his tantrum the building was solid but old, made of heavy brick and thick wood. The place was musty and smelled like stale ale and mistreated wood. Hundreds had passed through this place and he couldn’t help but think of how many had slept here and perished.

 

A clang on the bars startled him and the cuffs rattled loudly. He squinted up at the figure but it was hard to make out any details with the sunlight spilling all around the man’s form and blinding him. Whoever it was had wide shoulders and a shock of dark hair beneath the brim of his black Stetson. His cheeks – or what Adam could see of them – were chapped from the wind but pale. A big hand rested on the bars and there was a badge clipped proudly on his breast. This was the Sheriff.

 

“Aaron told me he wrangled a steer. Damn me to pieces, I didn’t believe him until just now.” The man leaned heavily on the bars with a click of his tongue. “What’s a handsome fella’ like you doing here in Cockbite?”

 

“I-” Adam grunted to clear the roughness in his throat, eyes stinging as he tried to keep them open. The man’s shadowed face tilted down toward him and he was able to make out some of his features. “I was just passing through, Sheriff.”

 

“Drinking on a fine Saturday morning – what bad luck you have, boy.”

 

The name struck him strange and he frowned. “Ellis. Adam Ellis.”

 

“Well, Mr. Ellis, Adam Ellis,” the Sheriff repeated flippantly as he tilted his hat up with one finger, exposing whiskey colored eyes. “If you’d bothered to ask around before you settled in, you would’ve known that the Lads take up the Griffons’ saloon in the morning and drink all day to celebrate the end of a rough work week. Geoff’s a good friend of and you so happened to have punched the daylights out of his adopted son. Mr. Gavin Free, if you recall. You broke his hand and he’s very much fond having their use. He’s-”

 

“A little punk who had it coming,” Adam interrupted sharply.

 

“-the town founder’s favorite hole to bury his cock in.” The Sheriff smirked as Adam went pale. “ _So_ you can see why I had to lock you up so tight. You’re a big boy, Mr. Ellis. I can’t risk you getting out. He’s very adamant about getting you a nice, snug rope necklace.” Adam swallowed and could feel the phantom burn of hemp at the swell of his throat. “Now, Aaron’s gonna come in here in a minute and tie those arms up tight as anything. We need to put on a show for Mayor Burns. He’s gonna’ want a good show and you’re going to be real good for me and play along.”

 

“Why would I do that?” Adam asked hesitantly.

 

A hand slipped through the bars and it was covered in a fingerless leather glove that smelled like sunshine. Pale fingertips hooked under his jaw and tilted his head up. He didn't fight it. When the Sheriff spoke again it was in a low, husky drawl.

 

“Because I’m the only thing standing between you and a pine box.”

 

o0o

 

Adam ended up shackled at the ankles with a rope pulling his arms back completely, the strain on his shoulders going from agonizing to numb in just a few minutes. He was led out of his secluded cell and sat on a bench against the wall with Deputy Marquis keeping a sharp gaze on him. Adam listened to Burns, the mayor and heir to the founding family of Cockbite, rant and rave about how strangers were ruining his town. Apparently he was convinced Adam was an outlaw and he demanded his name and sketch be circulated.

 

Mr. Michael “Burnie” Burns was accompanied by the owner of Griffons’ Saloon (the mysterious mustached man he’d seen at the bar named Geoff) and his accountant, Mr Matthew Hullum. His friends were sneering towards Adam and the young man felt like a butterfly pinned through the gut by a steel needle. While Burns was red in the face, Sheriff Heyman ( _Joel_ , he’d caught earlier during the greetings) was as cool as anything he’d seen. His body was slumped in the chair against the wall, Stetson on the table to show off his wild hair. He had an impressive jawline that gave way to straight, white teeth which he’d seen curve into a shark grin. High cheekbones and mile-long legs – the very sight stirred him. His lazy whiskey gaze gave nothing and his hands were perfectly still.

 

He was carved of ice.

 

“How’s Gavin’s hand?” the Sheriff asked in the middle of the rant, the mayor’s words fading. “What did the doc say?”

 

Burnie’s eyes shot to Geoff and then his lawyer before he answered. “He’s young. It should heal right in four weeks if he’s lucky.”

 

Joel’s lips curled in a catlike smile, hinting at something more without showing it. He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees in one smooth motion. “There we go. Four weeks. That’s not a long time.”

 

Burnie flushed up to his hairline and he puffed up like a cat.

 

Joel clicked his tongue. “I know you’re upset, Burnie, but if you can’t get on four weeks without that twink jerking your dick, I’ll _personally_ pay for the finest whore at Brandon’s cathouse and we can call it even.”

 

“I want this heathen dead,” Burnie seethed.

 

Something hardened on the Sheriff’s face. “This town would shrivel up and die if we hung every person who didn’t get along with the Lads. I know Haywood’s itching to dig another hole for our cemetery but he’s just gonna’ have to hold off for a while. You can’t have him. Not this one.” He sat back in his seat and rested his elbow on the side table, his cheek on his fist, an innocent mask laying over his quiet rage. “Maybe the next one.”

 

“Fuck you, Joel,” Burnie spat.

 

“Me?” Joel’s eyes purposefully widened and he let his fingertips dance over his exposed collarbone. “Now _I’m_ a little more expensive.”

 

There was a small standoff between the two men but when Burnie looked away the Sheriff knew he’d won. “Aaron. Take Mr. Ellis back to his cozy cell.”

 

“No food or water,” Burnie demanded with a suddenness that made Joel drop his hand and frown. “And you take what money he has. I want him to suffer.”

 

Deputy Marquis was hesitant but nodded slowly. “Yes, Mr. Mayor, sir.”

 

Joel stood, jaw tight. “You think you can tell me how to run my jail?”

 

“Hell, Joel, I _know_ I can.”

 

o0o

 

The noise of the town died down as midnight passed. For a lively place, Cockbite slept well as the moon grew fat and full in the sky. Adam was on his side in the one person cot and horribly uncomfortable. His mouth was dry, his stomach was growling, his arms were still bound, and he was sick with worry over his fate. The jailhouse was dead quiet. There were no other occupants in its cells and no one to watch over the prisoner. With ropes and shackles still laced up his arms he wasn’t going anywhere so they must have locked the door and been done with it.

 

Adam’s heart jumped up into his throat when he heard someone come in to the building. The footsteps were faint at first and then louder, approaching. A candle struck somewhere to the left of his cell and it’s light coupled with that of the moon to let him see just what was happening. Footsteps mingled with the jingling of keys and then a shadow appeared at the steel barred door. It was the tall figure he’d seen this morning with the same tousled hair.

 

Joel unlocked the door and hauled it open before stepping inside. He had a wide-brimmed tin cup in his hand and the young prisoner swallowed dryly. He could feel the man looking down at him but he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to move or not. This was a dangerous game and he didn’t want to play with his life on the line

 

“Sit up, Adam.” The use of his first name surprised him enough into obeying. He didn’t raise his gaze at first until the Sheriff’s hand cupped under his chin and made him. It was like the gesture earlier but less a display of dominance and more a careful request. Fingertips stroked softly through his beard, mindful of the sensitive flesh beneath, and Adam’s eyes fell shut. It was a gentle touch and it had been a long time since he’d felt something like it. “I know you must be thirsty.”

 

Adam nodded without thinking. His tongue felt like sandpaper and it scratched at the roof of his mouth. One drink of water would be bliss.

 

“That man has this entire town in his fist.” _That man._ He knew exactly who they spoke of. “I’m the only one he’s never been able to control, and that means playing into his theatrics once in a while.”

 

“Then cut my arms loose.” Adam tried to make it a demand but he sounded like he was begging.

 

“Not so fast.” Joel’s eyes lingered on the silver ring pierced through his septum before they dropped to his lips. “Drink.”

 

The tin cup was put to his lips and slowly tipped. A moan left Adam’s throat as the first wash of water spread over his tongue, his palette, and down to ease all the rough places inside of him. It felt like getting communion, absolution, but there was something darker to it with the Sheriff overshadowing him and holding the power while his arms were made so useless. But it was _so_ refreshing and it calmed the hunger cramps in his stomach.

 

“Please, more,” Adam pleaded as the cup began to retreat.

 

“Alright, boy,” Joel hummed above him before the rim was put to his mouth again. The rest of the water was poured down his throat until there wasn’t a drop left. It was sat on the floor and promptly forgotten. A thumb swiped the leftover droplets from his lips and he desperately tried not to chase the digit with his tongue. Joel’s hand grew bold as it stroked along his beard, smoothing the wayward strands, and then drifted up his sideburns and into his hair.

 

“Exotic.” The word was whispered under Joel’s breath and it almost went unheard. “It’s been a long time since I’ve come across someone I can’t stop staring at.” The Sheriff leaned down further and the air grew thin. “I’d like to see more of you, actually.”

 

The kiss was unexpected. Adam had been in jailhouses before and it wasn’t uncommon for the deputies to get handsy with the prettier looking boys who got dragged in for horse stealing or pickpocketing. But it was wet and smooth from the merciful drink of water. There was no hesitance, no delicacy – just a man wanting to kiss a set of consenting lips, and another slowly enjoying it. Joel didn’t pull his hair or use any slurs, nor did he try to bite his way into dominating the kiss. There was just a slow, sensual drag of an agile tongue along his lip that happily curled with his own when granted access. Adam’s eyes fell closed and he let himself enjoy the dance, the give and pull of muscle to the tune of small sighs. When was the last time he just _kissed_ someone?

 

When he couldn’t recall right away he threw himself into the contact, wanting to remember the intimacy when he was being fitted for the gallows.

 

Joel cocked his head and pressed harder, kissing deeper like a distraction as his thumbs hooked in each of the younger man’s overalls. They were pushed down his shoulders with ease. It seemed that in everything the Sheriff did he did with fluidity and that somehow put Adam at ease. The kiss got more heated as long fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt and untucked it so that it could more easily be slid down and back to pool at his elbows. As his blood started to flow a little hotter, the ache in his tied arms morphed into a deep throb that matched the rhythm of his heart.

 

That rhythm kicked up a notch when Joel broke the needy seal of their mouths and flicked out a knife. Adam’s pupils blew as the rush of adrenaline sat his body ablaze, breath turning ragged. He squirmed to get himself flat against the wall and away but was dragged back. “Don’t, Sheriff, please.”

 

Joel didn’t say a word as he hooked the edge of the blade beneath Adam’s undershirt and sliced it up the middle. The younger man flinched, waiting for the hot pain, but nothing came. The ruined material was yanked down to join his shirt, chest thrust out proudly from the binding and position. His ears burned as he realized he must have looked like an open invitation.

 

Joel didn’t say a word as he admired the young man presented before him. A fit, wide chest and thick arms from ranch work. The reddish brown hair of his beard was reflected in the fine fur that coated it all. After a quiet moment of smirking and watching the boy squirm, Joel ran both his hands down all the exposed flesh. The youthful body shudder under his palms, from fear or arousal he didn’t care. Adam's belly looked soft at first but he pressed his fingers down to find heavy laces of muscle. A strong little buck. He caught the glint of steel in the other’s nose and decided _buck_ was not a strong enough word to describe this specimen.

 

Their next kiss was tender enough to calm a racing heart. “One word and this stops.”

 

Adam strained against the rope and shackles boorishly before pushing up into another kiss. It was a silent understanding, an agreement. He could've swore he felt the Sheriff grin but it could have been his imagination. He strived to take control, to plunder Joel's mouth to take back some of the balance, but it was an illusion of dominance. While the man's lips pliantly parted for his tongue, Adam felt insistent fingers tugging at his fly before setting upon it with a single minded determination.

 

For a moment he thought he felt the word 'wait' itch along the back of his throat but it didn't come out. The whole thing was fast but he didn't want to stop. All that aimless wandering had brought him here to this moment. It was probably just whimsical thinking but every step he'd taken out of his front door had all taken him to this very moment. Call it fate or blind luck or a sick cosmic joke but he was meant to end up in this cell.

 

And if his life was going to get snuffed out tomorrow then he wanted to die with the fresh memory of a handsome man's touch.

 

Zipper no longer a problem and suspenders unhooked, Joel was free to yank down the other's pants. The rough-spun material hugged his calves and effectively hobbled him. Adam was a present wrapped from elbow to wrist and locked legs. A single finger hooked in his shorts and there was now a predatory smirk on his handsome face. The younger man swallowed audibly and held his breath. He couldn't look into that smug face anymore but when his eyes dropped to his lap he saw how strong his desire was. The thick mound of his covered cock twitched and then the last barrier of modesty was gone. Cool air felt good against his hot flesh and his eagerness was embarrassing. The pleased coo the other man made did nothing to discourage him. Wide palms grazed languidly over his thighs and a needy sound wormed its way out from between his lips.

 

Joel smirked at the boy's moan of surprised pleasure. The thighs before him were gloriously muscled – masculine, strong, solid under his hands. They flexed almost nervously at his touch but there was no hint of wanting to pull away. Adam's bronzed eyes couldn't look at him for very long but when he did see them they were lusty as the meat between his legs. The cock in front of him was thick with a plump-rimmed head that was made to drag out rival seed from a quivering clutch. Beneath that was the real pride. Joel slipped his palm beneath the boy's sack and weighed it, rolling it between his fingers to get a chorus of weak gasps. Adam's head lulled back and the Sheriff felt a hungry itch in his teeth to bite at the exposed neck. A fluttering throat under his canines, auburn fur over healthy limbs to pet to his content...it was a gift for staying in this God-forsaken town for so long.

 

Adam's hear was tittering like a bird within the cage of his ribs. He wasn't too proud to admit to himself that he was scared. The Sheriff was devouring him with his eyes and his hands were rough but so _warm_. He touched him without hesitation and the confidence there had his lashes fluttering and his cock dribbling shamelessly. There was no denying just how much he wanted this.

 

“You're not a steer, boy, you're a breeding bull,” Joel purred with firm swipe over the base of his dick. “What a beautiful animal you are, Mr. Ellis.” He closed his fist around the length and gave it a tight, long stroke that made the younger man's breath hitch. Adam rolled his hips up but it was a useless movement with his arms restrained so well. Nostrils flared and he let out a frustrated huff. “Feel that weight.”

 

Adam's gasp was humiliatingly high pitched but the sharp smack to his sensitive dick caught him off guard. He stared at the Sheriff in disbelief and got another fleshy smack that made him throw his head back with a pained sound of exquisite pleasure.

 

“A little rough treatment and you drip like a girl,” Joel teased as he traced the fat tip of the boy's cock once more just to memorize the sensation. “I'd have you mount me like a happy heifer...bet you could get me to scream, boy.”

 

 _That_ was an idea. Adam could imagine the Sheriff on his knees in some soft bed somewhere stripped of his badge and clothes with his thighs spread like a proper tramp. Wind-kissed, porcelain skin laid out like a buffet for his tongue and oil-slick hole presented for his use. In his mind the Sheriff was the one shacked but his high cheeks were ruddy with pleasure. It was a lovely picture.

 

“But that's not what I want tonight.” The gurtled growl cut through his fantasy and he snapped back to reality when a hand clawed in the mess of material and ropes behind his back and _jerked._ He shuffled around on his knees to keep his shoulders from getting popped out of their sockets. “Down, boy.” Long digits fisted in hair and bent him over the bed, chest pressed to the thin cot and knees digging into the floor.

 

“I can make you feel good,” Joel swore, easing his touch to pet along the nape of his sweaty neck. “I ain't gonna let you hang for roughing up that little twink.” His next breath came much easier. “Now why don't you show some appreciation?”

 

Adam had been running on pure instinct since the Sheriff had walked into the cell but this was something made his heart and gut clench up and not unpleasantly. He's never had a guy mount him but he'd made plenty of twinks squeal on his cock. Back in his home town the prettiest whores in the local cathouse had shown him just how good something up inside him could be. They'd laid him out among their silks and praised his strong body, his impressive sack and cock, and had stroked his shaft until he'd been ready to spread his thighs for him. A gorgeous blonde had shown him an array of blown glass shaped like cocks and had given him a smooth nub to start out and worked him up to an substantial size. He could remember her razor smirk and big blue eyes as easily as he could this cell. They'd held them down with creamy hands and had given him supple breasts and pink nipples to suckle at as they fucked him with their beautiful toys. Incense and female musk had filled up his lungs while he tasted the first real pleasure he'd ever known.

 

So Adam parted his legs as far as he could and tilted up. He wanted to feel the real thing.

 

“Now that's a pretty sight.” When Joel partook in men he had always favored them burly. There was no better sight than a big, capable man on top of him or offering up their own hole for the taking. Joel had often considered his biggest strength his gun and demeanor so to have a large, powerful man begging for his touch sent him on a head trip that could boost his ego for days.

 

There was a rustle of clothing before the slight _pop_ of a cork from a bottle. Adam hissed through his teeth as the first drops of cold oil plopped into his cleft. Joel hushed him as a steady stream poured between his cheeks. His hole twitched in anticipation but there was a nervous edge in his stomach. A blunt thumb massaged over the tight furl of muscle with a whispered command to relax.

 

“Let me in.”

 

Adam kept his breaths nice and measured and his body began to comply. A single finger slipped in and the slow strokes felt like a caress on the inside. After a few tense moments he started rocking along with it, cheek rasping across the coarse sheets.

 

“Let me make you feel good, boy.”

 

Adam nodded, teeth scraping over his lower lip. There was an ache and sting of pain as the man slid in another wet finger but he moaned when they both stroked over the bundle of nerves that seemed to be just out of his reach when he was by himself. He groaned in time with each grind and there was sticky pre-cum on his furred belly and a few drops clung to the bed frame, even dripping to the floor. He felt like a bitch about to be bred and the way Joel folded over him and nipped at his ear didn't help.

 

“Tempting boy. Those little noises of yours get me all worked up.” The silken words were punctuated by the click and rustle of Joel's pants being undone. “I want to see what kinds of sounds you make speared on my cock.”

 

It was the only warning Adam got before the smooth, blood-hot head of the other man's cock grazed against his hole. Those feral instincts took over and he cocked his hips up to let it pop inside. The tip was unobtrusive and thankfully not as thick as his own so it fit perfectly with minimal prep. The stretch was welcome and Joel's cock seemed to go on forever, curving well and dragging against his grasping walls in a way that made his toes curl and his back arch in further submission.

 

It was a thousand times better than the glass toys the whores had used, the length so _alive_ inside him. Joel panted behind him, muttering about how good he felt, and he could feel the man's desire with every throb of the thick vein against his rim. It was like being skewered in the best way possible and he hated himself for it but he _liked_ it. They stilled, catching their breath, and after a dusting of kisses along his nape and a few pets to his hips Adam felt his body give. The pain faded out and quick grind brushed his sweet spot.

 

For a rough and tough law man, Joel sure did work him open with a gentle pace. Adam muttered something about him being a softie in his old age and got his hair pulled again until his neck twinged. Sharp canines bit at his pulse and it took everything in him not to whine like a bitch in heat. “I'm not going to hurt you so you can cry rape later. You want this as much as I do. I can feel it in how tight you grip me like you don't ever want my cock to leave.”

 

Joel's hand squirmed between their bodies and caressed his hole in the 'v' of his fingers, one on each side of his own cock to feel how soft the slick rim had become. It yielded obediently under his touch. A filthy smirk twisted his lips as he pulled back only to plunge in hard. The young vagrant beneath him bucked, startled, but a few more deep ruts calmed him down. The bed creaked with each thrust and he fisted a handful of the ropes across Ellis's arms to keep his leverage. The boy fluttered around his dick like he was trying to milk out his cream and it was working like a damn dream. “What a good sheath you are, boy. You're doing just fine.”

 

Adam panted hotly into the rough sheets and did his best to get the man to hit his spot almost every time, and once the angle was perfected he was lost in the age old rhythm of physical pleasure. The Sheriff's cock hollowed him out and carved a new space within him. It was an intense sensation because every rock of the older man's body filled him right back up. The old must of the jailhouse, the harsh pants of their breath, the smell of leather on Joel's skin and the stench of sweat between them...it all flooded their minds and time faded. They strained toward one another, one nuzzling and caressing while the other begged silently for any sort of contact. Blood flowed so hot they thought they would catch fire, skin flushed so darkly it looked ready to blister...they whole place could set ablaze and they'd never know.

 

There was a flood of wet heat and Adam moaned pitifully as the Sheriff's potent seed flooded his hole. It was thick and shot in heavy spurts to where he was sure that if he was capable he would be pregnant before the night was over. It was so deep he could almost taste it on the back of his tongue. He wouldn't say it out loud but Joel sounded like a satisfied john above him, groaning his release and praising God like He'd personally delivered Adam to his jailhouse. There were a handful of thrusts to ride out the sensation before Joel pulled out. There was an obscene sound and some heavy plops and Adam could only imagine the gush of cum from his slack hole. He knew the Sheriff was staring if the low, appreciative whistle was any indication. He tried to shift, to sit up, but groaned in discomfort.

 

Joel hushed him and nosed at his hairline, big hands taking the younger man by the waist and urging him upward. Adam let himself be led and used the last his of his strength to sit up. He was propped against the wall and his pants were tugged down to his ankles. He let his legs fall open and flexed the muscles there to wake them up, cock still leaking for attention. His arms were numb but tingling. They'd hurt soon but with ripples of pleasure coursing through him he could take it for a bit longer. The Sheriff was between his knees and rubbing his thighs. The man's face was just how he'd imagined it behind him – pupils swallowing up the brown in his eyes, lips bitten red, high cheeks red like they'd been rouged.

 

“I won't leave you hanging. Not after such a pretty show,” Joel promised, sitting up on his knees. With his own tucked away, he circled the base of the other's cock and sat up on his knees. “I'll give you a hot place to spill all that seed, big boy.”

 

Adam watched with a half-lidded gaze as the Sheriff leaned forward and sucked the thick head between his lips. The younger nearly shot off the bed at the sudden, tight sensation. An agile tongue played along the rim of the tip and along the slit to lap up the stray beads of pre-cum. What he didn't take into his mouth was stroked with a oil-slick hand. It was filthy, sloppy like he was out of practice, but the enthusiastic way he suckled and licked was better than anything he'd ever had. Any toy, any mouth, any fine piece of ass in any brothel he'd ever stumbled into – all paled to being bound and sucked dry by a stranger who had his life in his hands.

 

A broad palm slid along the curve of his balls and fingers brushed his used hole. The older man swallowed once, twice, and the press of his throat along his swollen flesh was all he needed. As he came, Joel drank him down without pausing and with a thirst not unlike the most trained wench. Adam's head clunked against the brick wall and his hips rolled in an instinctual need to breed whatever had made him come. Once the last intense wave had gone it's course, Adam slumped uselessly and let himself take a moment to rest.

 

A bitter kiss was pressed to Adam's lips and when he opened his eyes Joel was gone. An instant, heavy disappointment filled him. He didn't want to feel disheartened from such a trivial, heated encounter but it was hard not to with is balls still tingling and his cock licked clean. The cell felt small and suffocating without the Sheriff inside to warm it up. The door was open but his arms were still tied up. He knew what this was, what to expect.

 

So why was his heart swelling up?

 

Joel came back in with a flask and a blanket and he forced himself not to smile. They were dropped on the cot before that familiar knife flicked out again. “Lean forward.”

 

Adam huffed.

 

“Ellis.” It was a threatening growl. Adam moved to reveal the tight lacings of rope that ran up his arms. The blade disappeared from his eyesight and then there was slack. The hemp coils fell around his lap. The knife was replaced for a key ring and then the shackles were gone. “Get yourself dressed, boy. It'll only get colder before morning. I'll bring you a nice, big breakfast.”

 

Adam massaged the feeling back into his arms and pulled up his pants before he stood and got in the Sheriff's face. To his credit, Joel didn't so much as flinch as his vest was grabbed in two meaty fists and he was backed up into the opposite wall. On their feet like this there was an obvious size difference between them. Adam towered over him by nearly a head and he used every inch of it to his advantage. Neither looked away. The kiss they shared was hard and tight-lipped but it felt like a brand.

 

“I'm trusting you Sheriff,” Adam rasped.

 

Joel patted his cheek. “Good boy.”

 

Adam stepped back and allowed the Sheriff to walk past him. With one last nod the barred door was slid shut and the night became much more ominous. He listened to Joel leave but he noticed the candle wasn't snuffed out. The lump in Adam's throat dissolved and he sat on the cot to properly fix his shirt and suspenders.

  
The whiskey was warm going down and lulled him right to sleep.

 

o0o

 

Adam woke with the first tendrils of sunlight streaming into his cell. The chill of the morning still clung to the unforgiving brick and he was sure he could see his breath in front of him. He was curled up on his side in the cot with the gifted thick blanket wrapped around him. He was sore from the waist down and his arms felt raw but there was a new contentment somewhere deep inside his chest. He wondered briefly what had woken him up but he found out soon enough.

 

“That for him?” That was the mayor's voice.

 

“Back off, Burnie. I'm not starving the guy.”

 

Adam's brows knit. _Joel_?

 

“That 'guy' broke my boy's hand.”

 

“Your whore is fine.” There was some bitterness to his tone.

 

“Aw, Joel,” Burnie's voice was a faux-tender croon. “Are you jealous?”

 

“Of your simpering pet? _Never_ ,” Joel bit out.

 

Adam sat up quietly when the Sheriff came into view, slamming against the wall by two large fists in his vest. Burnie was disgustingly close and Joel looked as if he were a moment's away from tearing the man's face off with just his teeth. “Watch who you're talking to.”

 

“Just because your daddy's daddy build this town doesn't mean you own everyone in it,” Joel shot back, lip drawing back in a snarl.

 

“I own you, _Sheriff._ ” Burnie laid a hand on the badge pinned to the older man's shirt that **.**

 

“You can only fuck my heart once, Burns.” The greedy fingers were smacked away. “That's all you get.”

 

“It's not your heart I want, Heyman. It's this ass of yours.”

 

Joel only allowed his ass to be groped for a single breathless moment before he shoved the mayor away with an ugly sneer. Burnie laughed in his face. “You're too easy. You always have been.” The Sheriff spat at him and the man scowled. “You fucking-”

 

Joel waited until the man came at him before he whipped out his pistol, holding it steady and aimed between the eyes. His finger itched to squeeze the trigger and fire off the deadly shot but he didn't. Adam shot to his feet and grabbed the bars with a noisy huff, rattling the door in a desperate, thoughtless attempt at freedom.

 

Joel and Burnie both looked toward him with shock but it was quickly covered up. The founder smirked. “Oh, I see. He's your little guard bull. Cute.” The Sheriff put away his pistol in the sobering moment of clarity. He got a finger jabbed in his chest. “Well get used to it, Heyman, because your little pet is gonna rot in there. I'm taking this business to Judge Haddock and he's going to rule in my favor.”

 

Joel slapped his hand away but he didn't look as stalwart as he did a moment ago.

 

“Your boy will either get a tight leash,” Burnie slashed a thumb across his throat, “Or he's gonna grow into those fucking walls.”

 

o0o0o0o

 

It was late enough into the night to be called early when he heard it. There was a groan of hinges and a _hiss_ of a candle being lit. He sat up and pulled on his suspenders, ready for anything from a fight to a gun in the face. Joel stepped up behind the bars and his face was drawn, hands fiddling with his keys before the door was unlocked and pulled open. Adam frowned, confused, but allowed the older man to come inside and kiss him. It was hard enough to make his swollen lips ached but he wanted it, craved it. There was something in Joel's entire body that was screaming for comfort and he wanted to give it.

 

A thumb pressed to his mouth as the kiss broke. “Follow me. Don't say a word.”

 

Adam obeyed without question and matched the older man step-for-step out into the jail. He was given back his hat, his coat, and the sack of coins he'd arrived with (plus some extra, if the weight was anything to go by.) The town was dead asleep around them as they went out onto the porch. Joel gestured him over to the saddled horses and quietly urged him onto one. Adam wanted to protest, to say that the Sheriff would get into grave trouble for this, but he merely followed the man's lead and rode behind him through the town and out onto the dusty road. They went off the beaten path and kicked up dirt and brush, the chill of the night fading as the first touch of grey came up in the distance. It grew lighter as the sun struggled to break through the thick of clouds.

 

Once Cockbite was out of sight, Joel stopped and dismantled, his companion doing the same. The Sheriff kept a hand on the reins of his unsettled horse and pointed out into the distance. “There's another town ten miles of here. Follow the sun. You can get a map and supplies there. Keep east toward the cities or go north. Any further west and Burns wills find you.”

 

Adam followed the line of direction and imagined another sleepy town, another bar, another brawl. Then he looked at the handsome Sheriff who was soothing his horse and looking like a blanched out version of the powerful man who had threatened him his first morning in the jailhouse. This wasn't the Sheriff, this was the man behind the badge who had fucked the hell out of him the night before. A man who was trapped in Cockbite as much as he himself had been, a man who'd been used by the mayor and who let the sin of it hang on his heart. There was something soft under that calloused surface.

 

“Come with me.” The offer came out before he could think about it. Joel looked up and there was panic around his dark eyes, trepidation there as if he were waiting for him to take it back. Adam mulled it over and decided he didn't regret it. The tender expression that came over the man's handsome face pulled over his heartstrings. He would've put money down that no one had ever put him first before, especially over something like their potential freedom. They could escape together, fuck under the stars – maybe figure out if there was anything else between them besides lust.

 

“I can't,” Joel croaked with a shake of his head, reins twisted around his fingers as his horse nudged at his shoulder. “I'm stuck there.”

 

“You said you're the only one he doesn't control,” Adam reminded.

 

“I-I lied.”

 

Who was this shy, sweet-mannered man in front of him? Joel's downcast gaze and hunched shoulders made him want to wrap him up in his arms until all the hurt was gone from those beautiful eyes.

 

“I'm rooted there as deeply as the rest of them,” Joel admitted reluctantly. “Burns got his claws pretty fucking deep in me. In all likelyhood, I'll die there.”

 

Adam walked up and grabbed him by the chin. “I don't believe that for a second.”

 

Adam pressed a kiss to the slack mouth and his tongue delved deep, demanding to taste every inch as it was given to him. He knocked the Stetson off and carded his fingers through surprisingly soft hair, pulling him close so he could feel the line of their bodies meet. Thick muscle and long arms, a soft stomach, their hips slotting well. He was struck with the thought that he wanted to do this forever...he wanted to see how low pitched those moans could go, what his face looked like when he came, how pretty he'd looked tangled in soft sheets, maybe even how good their clothes would look tangled together on the floor. This couldn't be the end.

 

“I'll head north from there and lay low at the first logging town I find,” Adam stated with mmuch more conviction than his first offer. “If you find a way out, look for the pine trees.”

 

Joel frowned. “What are you looking for outta' this?”

 

He bit the corner of his damp lip. “You, maybe.”

 

“You stupid, romantic fool. One night and you're smitten.” Joel didn't sound anywhere near as stern as he'd been aiming for so he pushed the younger man away, smothering up the sweet flutter of his heart. “ _Get._ Before I change my mind.” He chuckled with a heavy dose of self-deprecation. “What kind of idiot would give up a job like I got? I protect a town of people who know and respect my name.”

 

Again, Adam didn't believe a word of that. Joel rubbed at his throat as if he could feel the metaphorical pull of the collar he was leashed with to Cockbite. “What more could I want?”

 

 _Love, companionship, trust_ . _Anything else than what you're getting._

 

“That man obviously treats you like trash,” Adam seethed as he hauled himself up onto his horse, taking up the reins firmly with pursed lips. “And if you're okay with that, then you belong under his thumb. _Hi-yah_!”

 

o0o0o0o

 

Three months later and Cockbite was just a brief nightmare, a fever dream.

 

Adam woke up with the sun, maturing sunlight trying to stream through his windows and touch his bed. He stretched under the quilt before he tossed it off and got up. The bare floor was cold under his bare feet but it was refreshing. He stretched again, thermals pulling tight and hands straining toward the ceiling as he woke up his muscles one group at a time. He poured himself out a cup of milk and spread preserve over three thick slices of bread. It was all consumed along with a ripe apple that left a lingering sweetness under his tongue. He debated another one but he knew the cart would be arriving soon with his buddies so they could all ride to the logging site together.

 

Adam put on his heavy cotton pants and flannel, tucking in the ends before clipping on his suspenders. He was clicking the last buckle in place when he heard the whinny of a horse. He grabbed his ax and bag of equipment. There was a knock. “I'm coming!”

 

Adam threw open the door and was ready to tell Blaine to calm the hell down but it wasn't his friend behind the door. The man standing in front of him was tired, pale, filthy, and dust-crusted from head to toe. There was no longer a badge pinned to his shirt. Instead, he sported a fat lip and a cut that split his eyebrow. For all his ruin, the man was smiling. Their eyes met and the world stopped spinning.

 

“Joel,” Adam gaped, ax dropping from his limp hand.

 

Joel shrieked and broke the spell they'd been woven under. He jumped back and the ax barely missed their feet. “You crazy fuck!”

 

Adam swept him up in a big, bear hug that picked him right up off his feet. Joel squeaked and got redder in the face as the younger man squeezed him for all he was worth. “I-I spend two weeks tracking you down and you're trying to kill me! C-Can't breath...turnin' blue here. God _damn_ , boy, you're strong!”

 

Joel's protests were cut off with a kiss and he didn't mind one bit. There were a hundred things to talk about, to explain and negotiate, but none of that mattered at the moment. It wasn't quite love, not yet, but it was exactly what they needed.

 

 

* * *

 

**If you like this series, or stuff like this, give me a holler because there's a lot of potential in this kind of style. And this won't be the last we see of Joel and Adam~**

**(All fics in this Western Universe are unrelated unless stated otherwise)**


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